


a curse upon this house

by enamuko



Series: FE Rarepair Week 2k17 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10114211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enamuko/pseuds/enamuko
Summary: Needless to say, Corrin's siblings are a bit... unsettled by Corrin's choice in fiance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Kicking off FE Rarepair week with the ship absolutely everyone was expecting from me! Using the prompt 'curse', although I will say that the relation is more than a little tangential. Still, I had a lot of fun with it! It's nice to be back to writing someone who hates life as much as I do.

                “Is this some kind of a joke?”

Iago was used to a certain level of disdain from the royal children. He’d been their father’s right hand sycophant for so many years and they’d never been particularly shy about expressing their distaste for his methods. The looks Xander, Camilla, and Leo were giving him now—those were entirely different creatures.

“Of course it’s not.” Corrin pouted at her younger brother and entwined her fingers tightly with Iago’s. The delicate silver ring on her finger must have looked like a shackle to her siblings. He found the thought downright hilarious, considering the actual circumstances—her brothers and sister likely wouldn’t see the humor in the situation.

“Corrin—might I remind you of how many times he’s tried to kill us? …tried to kill _YOU_ , specifically,” Xander felt the need to add. Iago wasn’t terribly offended. It was true, after all.

(And if he squeezed Corrin’s hand as he spoke, and she squeezed his back, well. It wasn’t like either of them were going to broadcast it.)

“I trust him, Xander.”

That revelation was met with silence. He couldn’t blame them, really. He had a hard time processing that fact himself most days.

“I told you this would go poorly. Always so nice to be proven right,” he said flatly, surely not endearing himself to the royal trio in the slightest.

“Quiet, you scoundrel. Corrin, why couldn’t you have at least picked a complete dastard with some _class_?” Leo fixed him with one of his best superior looks. He’d always thought that he looked like a pouty child when he did so, honestly, but best not to bring that up now.

“Leo, _that’s enough_.” Corrin growled at her younger brother, squeezing Iago’s hand again. “Your opinions are your own business, but I was hoping my family could be at least a _little_ supportive. Don’t you trust me to make my own choices?”

The silence that followed was obviously longer than Corrin was comfortable with, because she sighed and turned away from them. Iago was only too happy to follow.

“Corrin, wait—”

“No, I think you guys have said everything I needed to hear.”

There was a coldness in Corrin’s voice Iago would have been amused by in any other circumstance. For reasons he couldn’t understand, she’d been so optimistic about what her siblings would say about their union—at the very least she imagined them biting their tongues for her sake.

None of the three tried to follow them as Corrin led him away. Maybe they were still trying to process what they’d learned. Or maybe they were smarter than he gave them credit for and had realized the mistake they’d made. Iago’s pride was far from wounded, of course, and he’d expected nothing different. It was Corrin who had expected better from them.

“That… could have gone better,” she sighed, once her siblings were well out of hearing range. They weren’t walking anywhere in particular that he could tell. They were simply wandering while holding hands.

“I hate to say I told you so…” Well, no, he didn’t. But with Corrin he felt a bit less good about it than he did with everyone else. “You know very well your siblings have never approved of me. I think they may approve of me even less now that I’ve joined your merry band of misfits.”

“Nn… I know. I should have expected it. I guess… I guess I just expected them to be happy for me, at least a little bit. Instead they think I’ve gone crazy.”

“You should be used to that by now,” Iago replied. “After all, I’ve been telling you that since the day you convinced me this was a good idea.”

He’d not really meant it as a joke, but she laughed anyway. “And what would that make you?”

Iago smiled. How odd that she could make him do so with such regularity. “Even crazier than you, I suppose.”

And if they had both lost their minds, at least they were doing so happily. Though he still doubted Corrin’s siblings would ever see it that way…

 

               “Iago.”

“Princess Camilla. I trust you’re well?”

“You can drop the formalities, you know. I think we both know that I’m not exactly here for an official discussion.”

Iago sighed. _Somehow_ , he had deduced that. Why did everyone seem to take him for simple? “Be that as it may, you _are_ still a Nohrian Princess. I may not be the royal tactician any longer, but if you don’t plan on exiling me from the country, I need to treat you as such.”

“Oh, don’t put any ideas in my head now.” Camilla smiled at him, but it wasn’t a very nice smile, judging by the way it didn’t reach her intense eyes. “I kid, of course. That would upset Corrin. Which brings me to why I’m here. What are your intentions towards her?”

“I… fail to grasp your meaning.” He had to admit, that question threw him for a loop. He’d expected a warning that if he ever hurt her, his head would no longer be part of his body—or, in the extreme, a warning to stay away from her entirely. But apparently, an interrogation was on the menu instead.

“Don’t play games with me, Iago. What’s your game? Do you have some kind of diabolical plan for her? Did Father send you? Or are you perhaps just doing this—seducing her—out of some sick desire for revenge?” With each suggestion, Camilla’s expression got darker and darker. Iago would have normally been rightfully frightened of the violently overprotective Camilla when she was on a rampage, particularly without Garon’s protection—but instead he felt anger welling up in his chest instead.

“Oh, yes. I make a habit of getting myself captured by the enemy army, held prisoner, tormented and mistreated for weeks on end—” He paused to breathe in sharply through his nose. Frustration was getting the better of him, it seemed. “All for the sake of ‘seducing’ your sister. Are you listening to yourself, princess? What exactly do you think happened between us?”

“What I think is that you’ve taken advantage of my baby sister’s trusting nature, and that Corrin doesn’t know the difference between pity and love,” Camilla replied, sharp as a blade.

Iago swallowed a few insults he could have spit out on that basis. He didn’t have any plans to die today. “Though I admit doing so would have been _woefully_ easy, there are plenty of ways I could have earned Corrin’s trust. _Romance_ would not be my choice. And, for the record,” (he couldn’t help but give Camilla a smug smirk) “ _She_ was the one who seduced _me_.”

“You insufferable—!” Camilla glared at him and looked ready to either start swinging her axe or storm off in frustration, depending on whether her emotion or her good sense won out, but a puzzled look battled its way through her anger. “But wait… that can’t mean… you don’t…”

“Use your words, princess. I don’t speak half-finished mumblings.”

“You don’t… actually have _feelings_ for her, do you?” She looked completely flummoxed by the idea, like it had genuinely never crossed her mind.

“It’s every bit as difficult for me to understand as it is for you, I assure you.” Not to mention why Corrin would ever see fit to return those feelings. The same thing must have occurred to Camilla, because once again her expression turned dark.

“You— _did_ something to her, didn’t you?” Somehow, he didn’t think she meant that in the traditional sense one might expect to hear from a family member of your fiancée. “Manipulated her, or—or cast some sort of terrible curse on her!”

Iago would have found the accusation hilarious if the expression on Camilla’s face hadn’t been so full of genuine rage and hurt. That was an expression you never wanted to see on someone who was angry with you who also had an axe on their person. An axe that was now in Camilla’s hands rather than being strapped to her back—oh dear.

“Princess Camilla, think about what you’re saying. In what sane universe would I _want_ to have to deal with any of this?” He was already backing away from the axe-wielding princess, though he had no doubt she would be able to catch up to him even if he flat-out bolted. He wasn’t exactly the most athletic person in the army…

“You said it yourself, Iago; you have feelings for Corrin. And don’t try to tell me you couldn’t do it, or _wouldn’t_. I’ve seen you do far worse under Father’s orders.” She pressed the sharp of her axe blade to his throat, not hard enough to cut though the thought was most certainly there.

He wanted to argue, to say he _wouldn’t_ —in fact, the thought of it made his stomach churn. Maybe not the concept in general, but for him to curse Corrin like that—the very idea of it sickened him.

(A sign of how far he had come—or had fallen, depending on who you asked.)

“I’ve done a lot of things for King Garon that I wouldn’t do for myself,” he replied, though he could tell it did nothing to convince her. “So this is it, then? A royal execution? I would have expected more of an audience.”

“No, Iago. I won’t kill you—not here and now, at least. But I can promise you that if you don’t tell me what you’ve done to her, I’ll make your time as our prisoner look like a delightful vacation.” And he knew that the axe blade at his throat made it a promise.

He laughed; he couldn’t help it. After all the things he’d done in his life, it was downright hilarious that _this_ would be what he died for. That laughter clearly didn’t please Camilla, though, since she glowered and pressed the blade ever more perilously close to the delicate part of his throat…

“Camilla! _What_ are you _doing_?”

If he didn’t think it might have ended with his throat cut open, he would have breathed a sigh of relief. Though not one for romantic language, he could honestly say that Corrin’s voice had never sounded sweeter to his ears.

“Corrin! What are you doing here? You and Xander were supposed to be having your war meeting…”

“He got called away suddenly.” He didn’t dare to turn his head, but he could see Corrin approaching out of the corner of his eye. “Put your weapon away, Camilla. Whatever’s going on here, I’m sure we can talk it over like reasonable people.”

“Your sister seems to be under the impression that I’ve brainwashed you.” Iago couldn’t help himself; the words spilled out automatically, almost desperately. He’d never be one to call himself brave in the face of immediate danger. Tacticians weren’t meant to take a place _on_ the battlefield, after all. He’d kept a cool demeanor under threat from Camilla, but that was crumbling quickly.

“Gods, Camilla. Have you lost your mind?” Iago watched as Camilla flinched like she had been struck—luckily _away_ from his throat, which allowed him to take another step backwards and away from his impending death. “The things Leo and Xander were saying were bad enough, but those were just words. This… this is insanity!”

“Corrin, darling… you know I only want to protect you,” Camilla implored. “I just couldn’t imagine what else besides some awful curse would lead to… well, to this. It wasn’t long ago that the two of you were trying to kill each other! Can you blame me for jumping to conclusions?”

“Don’t you think someone would have noticed if I was brainwashed at this point? You can even bring me to Nyx or whoever else you want, if you want proof. Maybe Iago and I don’t have the most conventional relationship, not to mention a rough start, but take a good look at our army and tell me who here doesn’t fit that description.” She sighed and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have told you. I see that now. But if you hurt him, Camilla, I swear I’ll never forgive you.”

Camilla flinched again, accompanied by a sound like she was choking. “Corrin… you really do care about him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. We wouldn’t be engaged otherwise.” Corrin reached out her hand to him as Camilla stepped away, her axe pointed to the ground. Iago reached out and took the offered hand, glad for the show of solidarity and an excuse to step away from Camilla without looking like he was scurrying away from danger—not to mention stunned, as always, by how natural it felt.

(He’d never had a good word to say about romance, but some of the less… ostentatious displays of affection, he had since decided, were enjoyable.)

“I may have to take you up on that offer to have you looked over—if you were brainwashed, you wouldn’t exactly admit it upfront, or even know. But… if it turns out the both of you are telling the truth… then I suppose I’m happy for you, darling.” The look on her face made it clear that it almost physically pained Camilla to say such a thing. “Even if I’ll never understand your absolutely horrible taste in men.”

“I’m so glad I’ve committed myself to a lifetime of being insulted by your siblings,” Iago droned, though he couldn’t help but ever so slightly inch behind Corrin as he said it. Camilla still hadn’t _properly_ sheathed her axe, after all…

Camilla smiled at him, another one of those deeply concerning smiles she generally reserved for an enemy whose head she was about to separate from their body. “You’ll have plenty of time to get used to it, I’m sure. After all, if you break my sister’s heart, we’re going to have to continue our little chat…”

“Camilla!”

“Oh, don’t get yourself so wound up, Corrin. I would say that to anyone you were involved with.”

“Yes, _that’s_ what worries me…”

 _By the Gods… what have I gotten myself into?_ Though the thought stuck in his mind, the weight of Corrin’s hand in his own was even more persistent…


End file.
